When You Wish Upon a Log
by icouldntgetanymorecliche
Summary: Short fic from The Enchanted Christmas when Belle is searching for a Yule log. Retold scene with no changes.


**Here is my second fanfic, which also happens to be another BatB fic. This is just a short fic from The Enchanted Christmas, when Belle is searching for a Yule log. I know it's rather early for Christmas, but...it's almost Christmas in July. ;)**

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"All right you guys, now get back to work. The castle doesn't heat itself you know!" a loud voice boomed. Although it was a loud voice, it came from a small axe. "Oy. So, what can I do you for lady?" the axe asked me.

"I'm looking for a log," I said, stating the almost-obvious.

"All right! Logs we got. We've got hard wood, soft wood, we got it all," he started as he dived into the huge pile of logs. "Birch, maple, pine, oak,--oy!" The axe yelped. He surfaced from the pile dizzily. "Concrete, my head, don't worry it'll pass." He shook off his dizziness and declared, "So make up your mind already?"

The axe was intimidating, despite his short stature. "Is it alright if I just...browse?" I asked shyly.

The axe seemed to shrug. "Suit yourself, take your time. Me; I got work to do." He turned towards the boiler and continued supervising the workers. I faced the enormous pile of logs and sighed. _The longest journey begins but with the smallest step_, I thought. I picked up a log and started to examine it. In the background, the boiler started to whistle and scream. The sound of steam hissed and the axe yelled, "Hey what am I paying you for, being boring? Do that on your own time; get out of here!"

I smiled to myself as I continued my search for the perfect Yule log. I found one that looked promising and I picked it up to scrutinize it. "Yes!" I exclaimed. My joy was short-lived, however, because I heard the heavy sound of the door being thrown open. _The Beast...!_

I hid the log behind my back. I didn't want to jeopardize the Christmas celebration by letting the Beast see what I was doing.

The Beast snarled and ran up close to me, as close as he could get without touching my face with his furry one. "What are you hiding?" he demanded roughly. I shrugged my shoulders and hummed like I didn't know what he was talking about. I knew he probably wouldn't buy it, but I tried, anyway.

It didn't work. He swooped behind me and snatched the log out of my hands. He looked at it, poked and prodded it, trying to figure out whatever in the world I might need a log for. While he continued to examine it, I nervously said, "It's a Yule log."

The Beast stopped looking at the log to look at me. "Hmm?" he questioned.

"A-a Yule log. It's a wonderful tradition," I placed my hand on the log the Beast was still holding; I closed my eyes as I pictured the time when I was little and my father and I touched it, making Christmas wishes. "One log is chosen and then everyone in the house touches it...and makes a Christmas wish." I smiled at that last sentence, but my smile soon faded as the Beast roared and shoved the log back into both of my hands. As he turned away, he mumbled, "Wishes are stupid." For a moment, it sounded as if he was going to leave it at that, but then he turned again to face me and yelled, "You made a Christmas wish last year...is this what you wished for!?"

I started to get angry with him. "No," I said as I hung my head, "but I'll keep wishing." I finished defiantly. I looked at the log fondly and said, "And when the log is burned on Christmas morning--"

"There'll be no Christmas!" the Beast cut in gruffly.

"But--" I started to protest.

"NO!" the Beast raged. "_I_ am the master here."

I was starting to let my anger get the best of me. "How can you be so selfish?" I demanded.

The Beast started to turn away from me, clutching his cape as he muttered, "You cannot possibly understand...you have no idea what it's like to lose everything, to be trapped in your own castle, to be a...a..."

"Prisoner?" I finished for him. He was wrong; I knew exactly what he felt because I was a prisoner, too. "The only one holding us prisoner here is you." I said finally. "Well, I'm not giving up!" Before he could respond, I took the log with me as I dashed out of the boiler room, infuriated by his stubbornness and gloomy attitude. I ran back to my room, where my "tough-gal" front instantly melted away. I flopped on the bed, depressed and overwhelmed by everything, and I started to cry.


End file.
